


Applied Magic; or, A Lesson In Magecraft

by drifting_chronotope



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Anal Sex, Cock Rings, M/M, Nord hospitality, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Sort Of, magic kink, magic used for good, smaller man tops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drifting_chronotope/pseuds/drifting_chronotope
Summary: Marcurio stops by Windstad Manor for a visit and finds the spell-wielding housecarl, Valdimar, stuck at home while the Dragonborn is out doing grand Dragonborn things. This, Marcurio decides, is much more interesting than his original plan.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Look. This is unabashed smut. Specifically, it’s shameless, unabashed, indulgent smut with a plot as easy as Sanguine's virtue. I needed more mage porn in my life, so _this_ happened.

Windstad Manor was a quieter homestead than Marcurio remembered. On his last visit, his first step inside had drawn him into loud laughter and rowdy discussion, already enlivened with wine and mead, and of course the heady aroma of a hearty meal. This time his welcome was only Valdimar’s broad smile and calm greeting, which was not, Marcurio realized, an unpleasant welcome at all. Valdimar did have a really nice smile.

“I’m sorry if you are here for my thane,” Valdimar said as he ushered Marcurio inside out of the cold. “He is on another pilgrimage to High Hrothgar.” He made a wry face in answer to Marcurio’s raised eyebrow. “He insists on traveling alone when he goes on those journeys.”

“And you let him do that?” Marcurio asked only half in jest. He knew from experience how protective the Dragonborn’s housecarls were of him—and he knew that the Dragonborn had several housecarls.

Valdimar laughed, and the deep sound reminded Marcurio that Valdimar had a really nice laugh, too.

“We respect his wishes,” Valdimar said, “but”--he made a vague gesture with a hand--”we do keep an eye on him. It helps now that one of our allies is at home in the sky.”

Marcurio thought a second, then snorted when he made the connection. “You mean a dragon, don’t you?” He shook his head. “Thank Magnus, I’m on his side.”

He let Valdimar take his pack and staff while he exchanged his boots for a pair of slippers, and it was easy to fall under the spell of Nord hospitality. It wasn’t until he was sitting in front of the hearth with a warmed cup of wine and hungrily devouring a piece of honey-soaked cake that he remembered he hadn’t actually explained why he was there. His actual reason was a little selfish. He’d been traveling through the area; had remembered the Dragonborn had a house up north; had decided to stop in and say hello—maybe get some work out of it. The Dragonborn did pay very well, after all. Simple and maybe silly, but that was the truth. Of course, it hadn’t hurt his decision when he’d remembered, too, that the Dragonborn’s Hjaalmarch housecarl could give as well as he got when it came to discussions about spell theory, even if the rest of the house conveniently exited the conversation to drink in peace. That the Dragonborn’s Hjaalmarch housecarl was attractive in all the ways Marcurio liked in older men, and of a similar persuasion as himself, might have also entered the equation. Just a little.

He eyed Valdimar tending the hearth’s fire, carefully noting how handsome he looked in his house clothes and privately imagining how he must look underneath them. Really, Marcurio realized, without his thane to distract him, he had Valdimar all to himself. That was hardly a poor outcome for one unpleasant journey through the marshes. Contented by that thought, Marcurio licked the last crumbs of honey cake off his fingers and settled back in his chair.

“So he’s gone off to High Hrothgar and left you here all alone, has he?” he said when Valdimar returned to his own seat.

“Aye. He will be sorry that he missed you. If you needed to speak with him, I’m afraid that you will have to travel to High Hrothgar yourself. He has stayed with the Greybeards for months at a time in the past. I cannot say when he will return here to Windstad.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I was really only passing through. Being curious,” Marcurio said with a grin. He shrugged. “I think my luck is doing pretty well that I got through the front door and seated in front of a warm fire. That’s a huge improvement from the muck and snow.”

“You are a friend,” Valdimar said simply. “Any of my thane’s homes would welcome you.” He gave Marcurio another smile, one that instantly became Marcurio’s favorite so far. “I am happy to have a guest to serve, too. It gets quiet without the others around and I cannot spend all of my time in Morthal.”

“Well, then,” Marcurio said, reminding himself that _he_ was the suave one and anyway too old to giggle, “I’m glad to be of assistance.”

The evening progressed. Marcurio enjoyed a satisfying meal and sipped on a fine wine plucked from the Dragonborn’s stock. When they ran out of news to share, the topics turned to spellcraft and opinions about technique, to gossip about the College. Their talk was easy, relaxed, and Marcurio was thrilled that he wasn’t the only one flirting. It was subtle at first—Valdimar seemed afraid of offending him, much to Marcurio’s amusement. They talked and teased and then, by accident, by serendipity, touched, and Marcurio happily found out that Valdimar was also an excellent kisser.

He pressed himself against Valdimar and kissed. His hands roamed over his shapely chest and stomach, appreciating all of the built muscle hidden beneath his plain clothes. He felt Valdimar’s hands roaming his own, slimmer shape, and finding him just as appealing, if the way he was softly kneading Marcurio’s arse was any clue. Marcurio skillfully walked him back into a chair and straddled his lap, rocking into him and squeezing his knees around his waist without breaking the rhythm of their mouths. Valdimar kept his mustache well groomed, and Marcurio found the hairs felt soft and full against his face, nothing like the scratchy bristles he’d felt on other men. He liked it. He liked the thought of feeling that mustache, and Valdimar’s mouth, on other parts of him, his chest, his thighs, his cock. A sudden pulse of pleasure told him that he liked that last thought _a lot_.

Now, Marcurio was not a stranger to sex in chairs, but tonight he wanted a bed and he wanted to take his time. Grudgingly, he broke the kiss with a playful suck on Valdimar’s lip and was rewarded with another tight squeeze on his backside. He grinned at the flush already coloring Valdimar’s pale skin, and likewise at the eager look of lust on his face, an eagerness that Marcurio had been teasing out of him all night.

That eagerness wavered briefly when Valdimar finally caught his breath and Marcurio saw his forehead wrinkle in a way that meant a worrisome thought had occurred to him.

“Stop,” Marcurio said, clutching at his shirt, darting back in to peck at his lips, insisting, “Whatever you’re thinking—stop.”

Valdimar gave a soft, embarrassed laugh and gently interrupted Marcurio’s barrage of kisses. He looked almost shy as he said, “I invited you to be my guest. After my behavior... I don’t want you to think I only invited you because I wanted to sleep with you.”

“Oh.” Marcurio relaxed; he’d expected some nonsense about taking advantage of him or their difference in age. He sat back on Valdimar’s lap, legs loose around his thighs and both hands resting on his wide chest. “I don’t think that,” he said. “Though,” he added archly, “I _do_ think that you sleeping with me is a wonderful idea.” He waggled his eyebrows and swirled his palms enticingly over Valdimar’s chest, enjoying the chuckle he got for the effort. “Let me say, officially, that I’m open to anything you’d like do tonight, you know, if case you hadn’t picked up on that yet.”

“Aye,” Valdimar murmured. He slid his own hands over, up and down, the tops of Marcurio’s thighs, squeezing ever-so-slightly the closer he got to Marcurio’s groin. There was none of the previous moment’s shyness in him when he said, quietly, “I would like you to fuck me.”

A wide smile splashed onto Marcurio’s face. “I would very much like that, too.”

“Upstairs?” Valdimar asked with his own smile, and Macurio updated his list of favorites so far.

“Mmhmm.” Marcurio kissed him again, this time ending it with a slight tug on Valdimar’s shirt as he stood up from his lap. “Let’s use the big bed, okay? I think your valiant thane won’t mind sharing under the circumstances.”

If Valdimar disagreed, he kept it to himself. He allowed Marcurio to pull him up from the chair and they made for the master bedroom, where Marcurio eyed the bed and judged it acceptable. He’d’ve preferred a four-poster with enough pillows to be embarrassing, but he’d take big and sturdy with a mattress that didn’t consist simply of straw-covered wood. Bed approved, he kicked off his house slippers and set to seeing them both undressed.

“I bet you look amazing in full mage’s robes,” Marcurio said as he helped Valdimar out of his shirt and ran his hands over the broad width of his shoulders. He eyed the thick curls of chest hair with delighted glee. “Maybe a set of those fancy robes they give the Imperial Battlemages—all that chain and silk—that’d be a good look on you.”

Valdimar made a dismissive sound. “I look like any other Nord wearing robes,” he said. “It is not very impressive.”

“You’ll have to prove that to me some day because the picture in my head is extremely hot,” Marcurio countered. “And so is this one,” he said, gliding his hands down Valdimar’s lean torso, rubbing over neat rows of tight muscles, down to ties of his trousers. He asked permission with a glance and received a small nod, before swiftly freeing the laces and slipping his hands inside. He smiled as he pulled Valdimar’s cock free, his fingers curling around his balls and shimming up his velvety shaft. “Very hot.”

“Yes, like that,” Valdimar whispered when Marcurio tightened his grip and gently tugged his balls. He made a soft sound at another tug, and another, and soon he latched hands onto Marcurio’s shoulders to steady himself as his hips jerked at each slow pull.

Marcurio kept alternating his gaze from Valdimar’s face to the sight of his hands working over his cock, watching his blush deepen and mouth part, watching his cock swell and bead up small pearls of moisture. He pushed his thumb into the slickness and spread it around his cockhead before pushing more purposefully into his slit. Valdimar made a deeper sound that made Marcurio’s own cock twitch. He rolled his fingers around his sac and drew one last pull up his cock before returning to the business of getting him undressed. He pulled at his underclothes and pushed his pants down his hips and thighs, giving him a moment to step free of the bundle before urging him onto the bed.

“I think I need to even things out,” he said, giving Valdimar a playful smirk, and started unbuckling his belt. He’d left his pouch with his other gear downstairs, so a smooth yank was all that he needed to send his robes slithering down around his shoulders to the floor. His stripped the rest of his clothes off with much less care than he’d given Valdimar’s, his cock promptly straightening upwards at its newfound freedom.

He cupped himself to ease his sudden itch, enjoying the tease of his palm pressing his cock against his belly, but mostly enjoying the very obvious way Valdimar was watching him do it. So he bit at his lip and pressed and slid his palm up and down his shaft, and he probably would have kept going like that if Valdimar hadn’t licked over his own lips and beckoned him forward with a hoarse, “Let me suck you,” which was almost enough to make Marcurio spill himself on the spot.

“You are young. I will suck you and then you’ll be at ease while you help me prepare for your cock,” Valdimar said, smiling his smile from earlier, the lustful one that Marcurio definitely loved, holding Marcurio’s hips between his hands when he was close enough to reach.

“Not if you keep talking like that,” Marcurio said, placing his own hands on Valdimar’s biceps and squeezing the thick muscles. “I’m about to burst now.”

Valdimar chuckled deep in his throat, which only exacerbated Marcurio’s arousal, and pulled him closer. “Should I cool you down?” he asked with a curious tone.

Marcurio was about to ask for clarification when he felt pinpricks of cold flash over his skin that matched the very points of Valdimar’s fingertips on his hips. He gasped and clutched harder around Valdimar’s biceps and discovered that other parts of his body really liked what Valdimar had just done.

“Good?” Valdimar asked, looking up at him thoughtfully.

Marcurio looked down, again getting another jolt of arousal at seeing Valdimar sitting before him on the bed patiently waiting to suck his cock. “Yeah,” he said, a flutter in his voice, “just don’t judge me. Ice is cold, you know.”

Valdimar grinned. “I do not see anything shrinking down here.”

“Ah, good.” Marcurio wheezed a faint laugh. “I’ve got a new kink.”

“Tell me if that changes,” Valdimar said and then sent another pinprick of ice through his fingertips in the same moment he bent forward and touched his lips to Marcurio’s shaft.

Marcurio gasped aloud, rushing out, “Still good!”, as his senses danced between hot and cold, disoriented by the sudden flood of strange pleasure that dilemma was causing him.

Valdimar stroked his hands down his hips, drawing circles of tingling cold over and up along the tender skin of his inner thighs, tracing lazy patterns up right up into the crux of his legs. As his fingers moved, his mouth moved, kissing up the length of Marcurio’s cock, wet lips closing around his tip and sucking, sliding forward then back before his mouth slipped off again and he returned to simple kisses. Adding to this maddening torment were the silky hairs of Valdimar’s mustache, feeling just as full and silky as he’d imagined they’d feel against parts other than his face. They tickled against his suddenly over-sensitive skin whenever Valdimar slid off his cock to kiss along the wake of a hand’s chilly path. In very short time, Marcurio felt himself teetering between amazingly exhilarated and insanely frustrated. Already he wanted to come—fuck, _he wanted to come_ —but Valdimar apparently knew exactly what he was doing when it came to using his lips and fingertips to keep a man right at the edge of orgasm.

“You won’t hurt me,” Valdimar said softly against his thigh, words puffing against an expanse of skin recently slicked by his tongue. Then he brought his mouth back to Marcurio’s cock, this time catching its head between his lips and taking it into his mouth.

Marcurio groaned in outright relief at the straightforward heat of his cock sliding into Valdimar’s mouth. He groaned louder when it hit the back and Valdimar adjusted and swallowed and, for a brief moment, took him deeper. “ _Good.”_ Sweaty tears stung his eyes as he felt Valdimar’s throat contract. He knew it was stupid to keep saying it, but, he said it anyway, “ _So good,_ ” because it _was._ Valdimar shifted back to a more comfortable middle and Marcurio eagerly began plunging into the suction of his mouth. It didn’t take long after that.

The teasing tongue, the feel of broad hands on his backside, the firm squeeze of wet heat and the tickle of his mustache, all of it blurred into a single, continuous wave of pleasure. He made a noise and expected to bury himself into Valdimar’s throat on his next plunge, but Valdimar pulled off his cock and and swiftly got a fist around him instead. It took one twist of his hand and Marcurio whimpered and his cock started spitting out strings of cum right into the ample curls of Valdimar’s chest hair, and all of Marcurio’s higher thought processes promptly went offline as he watched Validmar’s chest become stained with seed.

Valdimar teased out a final dribble of cum with one last slow pull, careful to catch the traces in his palm, with a smile of satisfaction. Marcurio tried saying something witty but he was still floudering in his afterglow, so it was mostly just another pitiful moan, which made Validmar chuckle. He watched him lick his fingers in a way that reminded Marcurio of how he’d greedily licked the honey cake from his own earlier that evening. The faint smile hovering on Valdimar’s lips confirmed Marcurio’s suspicions that he’d been noticed—and appreciated. Not for the first time that night did he feel the intoxication of friendly challenge.

When Marcurio finally got enough breath and thought back to form proper words, he said, “Show-off,” and caught Valdimar’s face in his hands for a kiss. “I knew you were talented,” he murmured, kissing another bead of sweat from Validmar’s temple, “but that level of control? _Magnus!_ Where in _Mundus_ did you learn to do that?”

Valdimar’s smile broadened. “Sucking cock or the ice magic?”

“Your mouth is going to ruin me, you know,” Marcurio muttered. He released him and Valdimar leaned back on his palms, the position putting his chest on display, which did not escape Marcurio’s attention. There was something about seeing Valdimar’s cum-spattered chest that made him feel perversely proud. He really wanted to play in the mess, and Valdimar seemed to sense his desire, shifting in a subtle way that made his pects flex enticingly.

Marcurio licked his lips and prompted, “Let’s start with the magic,” as he gave in to the urge and smeared his fingers into the body-warmed cum with all the grace of an excited child.

“Well, at College, naturally,” Valdimar said, his breath catching slightly at the second pass of Marcurio’s fingers, when said fingers grazed over his nipples, which Marcurio noted with intense care. “Didn’t you?”

Marcurio flicked his gaze away from his sticky handiwork in time to catch the grin on Valdimar’s lips. “I must have missed that particular class,” he said dryly. “I could give you a summary, if you like,” Valdimar murmured. “Mm, I think you just did,” Marcurio chuckled, his cock pulsing in vivid memory of Valdimar’s mouth and hands while his academic side fluttered with admiration at the display of his skill. He ran his fingers purposefully over Valdimar’s nipple and casually hovered forefinger and thumb around its peak. He licked his lips again and said, “Luckily, I’m a fast learner,” and a millisecond spark _snapped_ between his fingertips.


	2. Chapter 2

Valdimar’s sharp inhale of surprise transformed into an outright groan of pleasure. His chest pushed forward, up, in so straightforward an invitation for more that Marcurio almost felt sinful for pulling his hand back. But he did and he waited until Valdimar looked at him, confused, because it was Marcurio’s turn to study his partner closely. Using destruction magic in foreplay wasn’t a new idea for him, but it was _destruction_ magic after all, and it didn’t take much to maim someone if you weren’t paying attention. He hadn’t been kidding about Valdimar’s phenomenal control.

Marcurio had plenty of faith in his abilities; he still had to ask, “Okay?”

Valdimar gave a faint nod and said, “Aye,” and then very pointedly settled back on his hands and sent the hard points of his nipples dancing with a flex of his pects. Point made, Marcurio quickly mumbled, “Keep me posted,” and got his hands back on Validmar’s chest.

He sent another jolt of shock magic dancing over the pink tip of Valdimar’s nipple and was rewarded with another low groan. Marcurio was becoming addicted to Valdimar’s groans, slightly in part because he was such a quiet man otherwise. Apparently, not in bed. He was incredibly impressed by how loud he could get Valdimar to groan just by squeezing his nipples after giving them a quick zap. That he _really_ seemed to like. Valdimar let his head fall back and Marcurio spared one hand to gently trace the apple of his throat, hovering it there to feel the vibrations of his next rumbling groan. He gave a nipple a hard pinch and then circled his fingers in a soothing stroke around the dark pink of Valdimar’s areola, rubbed his thumb along the curve of his throat—and Marcurio reveled in the gorgeous, naked man moaning in pleasure under his hands.

“So blasted sexy,” Marcurio whispered fiercely. He crowded in close for another kiss. “The drawer,” Valdimar murmured when Marcurio finally released his lips, nodding at an end table. Marcurio understood, and he was too intent on getting Valdimar ready for him to bother joking about using the Dragonborn’s private stash. He located the drawer, found the vial waiting inside, and hightailed it back to the bed. He motioned Valdimar back further onto the bed and crawled on after him.

Valdimar’s thick thighs spread for him and Marcurio knelt between them, already eying the bounty of curls coating Validmar’s legs with the same delight as the hair on his chest. He ran a hand over one of Valdimar’s calves and found the hair likewise soft and full. Hairy Nords were a favorite of his—it would make his sex life in Skyrim quite challenging if he felt otherwise—but well-groomed hairy Nords were a treasure.

"I love your thighs," Marcurio admitted as he glided his palms along the insides of Valdimar’s thighs. Valdimar's thighs were almost twice the thickness of his own and he could feel the strength in them as he squeezed the layers of muscle. "Hard, hairy, huge... All in the best ways."

His hands drifted upwards, following the path of his eyes, up to Valdimar’s waiting cock. It arched up from it’s own hearty bed of curls, flushed and sticky with precum. He cupped a palm under Valdimar’s plump sac and squeezed, biting his lip when he saw another bubble of fluid drool out his slit. "You really like a tease, don't you?" Marcurio murmured appreciatively. He brushed his knuckles along Valdimar's swollen shaft. He couldn’t help catching a dribble of precum with his thumb. "Not that I mind," he added, because he honestly enjoyed pleasing his partners, and he was discovering that he _really_ enjoyed pleasing Valdimar.

"Aye," Valdimar agreed when Marcurio drew his hands away to open the vial of oil. "I enjoy being touched." To which Marcurio said, "You're a blessing to touch."

He heard Valdimar's soft puff of air, part chuckle and part lusty sigh, which made Marcurio smile, because who else could sound both modest and filthy at the same time? He pumped Valdimar’s cock with both hands. Valdimar let out another sigh, and spread his thighs wider, hitching his hips up in an obvious way. Marcurio took the invitation and slid slicked fingers behind his sac, back between his cheeks to seek out the warm furls of his ring.

"You will not hurt me," Valdimar said with a beautiful breathiness that sent a throb through Marcurio.

Marcurio blinked sweat from his eyes and tried to keep from grinning like an idiot. "Perhaps not," he said, pressing in with the faintest bit of pressure. "But you said you like being touched, and I"--he pulled a fist down and up Valdimar's weeping cock--”happen to love touching”--while his fingers rubbed small circles, teasing over the fuzzy wrinkles. “You’re so soft here. Soft and hot and, hmm”--he barely breached one finger inside--”too tight. That won’t do.”

Valdimar grunted and flexed and Marcurio avidly watched rows of muscles tense and release. He tried not to acknowledge the growing ache in his balls as he played his fingers over Valdimar's hole. He already felt like his orgasm had been ages ago and his cock was plumping back up with a vengeance. If he came a second time before Valdimar even got one in, he was going to feel like a horrible guest. But it was beautiful to see the beads of precum smear across Valdimar’s abs every time his hips jerked and his cock bounced.

He slid his other hand under Valdimar’s thigh, slipping it behind his knee to urge his leg up. Valdimar bent easily for him, grunting again as the movement naturally spread him open wider for Marcurio’s questing fingertips. Marcurio shifted his own position, hissing slightly as the movement jostled his balls, and pushed Valdimar’s leg up higher, up until Valdimar solved the problem and simply braced it on his shoulder, which Marcurio found immensely pleasing. He eagerly wrapped his arm around Valdimar’s leg and pressed a kiss to his calf right as he finally pushed his fingers in past the fluttering muscles.

“Yes,” Valdimar whispered, “like that,” and rolled his hips to drive his fingers deeper. Marcurio obeyed, exploring Valdimar’s passage with slow, steady pushes, crooking his fingers whenever he felt Valdimar’s leg tremble or his hips buck.

“You’re gorgeous, you know,” Marcurio murmured, cheek pressed to Valdimar’s leg, eyes fixed on Valdimar writhing as his fingers sought out all the right spots. “So damned gorgeous. You’ve already got me rock hard again and you haven’t even touched me.”

“Oh?” Valdimar asked. He lifted his head to meet Marcurio’s gaze. His face was flushed a deep pink, his thin lips swollen and the grey-blond of his mustache was dark with sweat. He smiled the same curious smile as before. “Do you need help?”

Valdimar sounded half-winded, yet still in control enough to be amused by Marcurio’s over-eager cock. That would have annoyed Marcurio if he wasn’t already familiar with how steady Valdimar’s control was in other sorts of situations, like the near-death or thick-of-battle sorts, so all it really did was turn him on even more.

“What—what kind of help?” Marcurio asked, squeezing himself closer to his leg mainly to keep from kissing that irresistible smile off his face. “I don’t think I can take the ice magic again. Not if you want to get fucked.”

Valdimar chuckled. “No. A different kind of spell. I will dispell it if you don’t like it.”

Marcurio nodded and stilled the fingers he was playing around Valdimar’s rim, curiosity fully engaged. “Okay,” because, really, he would agree to it even if he wasn’t on a hair-trigger from lust—he was a mage. Though, if he was in a different mind, it might interest him that he trusted Valdimar so easily.

“I must touch you,” Valdimar said in warning, and with that pushed up on an elbow and reached his opposite hand forward, lightly running his fingers down Marcurio’s shaft and cupping his sac, all in a motion so fluid that Marcurio didn’t react until he felt the ticklish shudder of magicka and sudden pinch and pressure around his cock and balls that made him cough out a surprised squawk.

Marcurio’s eyes darted downwards. “What--” He made another sound of surprise at the iridescent, semi-translucent band now fixed around the base of his cock. “A cock ring?” His voice cracked. “You _conjured_ a cock ring?”

“I am a sorcerer,” Valdimar said, unfairly smug. He gently touched his fingers to the shimmering band, feeling around its fit. “It is not too tight? Should I dispell it?”

“N-no. Keep it.” Marcurio stared at the ethereal jewelry now keeping his cock in check. “It’s...” He wasn’t sure if ‘fine’ was the right word—he didn’t really have much experience with cock rings, especially not ones conjured from Oblivion or wherever—so he fell back on, “It doesn’t hurt,” because it really didn’t. He felt it, certainly, felt how it shifted the pressure around in his balls and shaft. But it didn’t hurt. Marcurio looked up from the ring and cleared his throat to ask, “So, ah, how does it come off?”

Valdimar’s eyes twinkled. He rested back on his elbows again. “Two ways. It can be dispelled. Or,” he glanced down before returning to Marcurio’s gaze, “I lose my concentration.”

Marcurio did _not_ whimper. He is too old for that. He made _a noise_ and hurriedly hunted down the vial of oil, spilling out maybe more than was necessary before he managed to get the cork back in, but Valdimar was watching him with that lustful look of his and Marcurio found it hard to look away. He slicked himself quickly, still a little surprised by the ring, and even more startled when Valdimar whispered, “Fill me,” and pulled his other knee up and held it in place with his own hand, offering himself for plunder. Marcurio likely did whimper then. He clutched his cock and steered it to Valdimar’s hole. He was loose and slick and he yielded easily to Marcurio’s slow, careful push.

He purposely bit his lip sliding inside Valdimar, because he refused to utter another mantra of ‘ _So_ _fucking_ _good_ ’ even if that was exactly what his body was screaming. His heart fluttered at Valdimar’s sound of relief as he sank home. Marcurio shifted forward, braced his arms at Valdimar’s sides, and Valdimar hugged his thighs around his torso, a heel finding the small of his back and digging in, pushing himself up, and, “ _Ah_ ,” they both gasped.

“Fill me,” Valdimar whispered again, urging him on with another squeeze of his thighs, and Marcurio started slow, easy thrusts, seeking out the perfect angle that made Valdimar cry out and then, once found, he began pounding into his greedy hole. He couldn’t help it. His lust already felt like an open wound and burying himself in Valdimar’s heat was his only relief. Valdimar moaned for him, reached for him, and Marcurio let him catch him in a breath-stealing kiss, pistoning inside him, pleasuring him the best he could with tongue and cock.

Marcurio felt tears in his eyes as his need to cum swelled and swelled and yet the ring kept him denied. He pushed his face against Valdimar’s throat and rocked himself forward, harder, faster, the frantic clatter of the bed background noise to the frenzy of his pulse and sound of Valdimar’s voice in his ears. Valdimar rocked with him, welcoming his punishing thrusts, whispering encouragement, lacing a hand in his hair and squeezing tight when Marcurio’s cock hit just right. Marcurio fucked and whispered back, not sure if he made sense, but also sure it didn’t matter. Everything felt too good, even his desperate need to cum. He was too caught up in sensations of Valdimar’s heat and strength and the smells of sweat and sex that he wasn’t ready for it the restraint around his cock vanished and his orgasm _burst_. Marcurio exploded, or felt as much, cum flooding out of him, cum covering him as he realized Valdimar had climaxed, too, his cock spilling between them, spitting new spurts with each thrust Marcurio drove into him.

He became aware of fingers absently rubbing his scalp, then of soft breathing and the beat of a heart near his ear. Marcurio blinked and loosened his fingers from their death-grip in the bed covers. The fingers in his hair made him also aware of the hair scattered across his face and he realized he must have lost his hair tie at some point. Valdimar shifted beneath him, but he didn’t seem upset that they were still jumbled together.

He levered himself up onto his elbows, shook his hair out of his eyes, and gingerly began untangling himself from Valdimar’s limbs. He winced noticeably when he slipped his softened cock from Valdimar’s passage. “Just sensitive,” he assured Valdimar’s concerned look, and left it at that, not sure if he wanted to admit that his lovemaking was rarely so intense. He caught sight of Valdimar’s reddened hole and felt his own concern for Valdimar, but Valdimar brushed his healing spell away, murmuring his own, “It is no worry,” and kissed him lightly on the lips before rolling off the bed.

“At least let me help with that,” Marcurio mumbled as Valdimar returned with a jug and cloth. Valdimar grinned and kissed him again. Together they cleaned off the worst of their mess, Marcurio using every opportunity to smooth his hands over Valdimar’s strong body as one to also make sure that he wasn’t hiding other injuries from him. “You did not hurt me,” Valdimar said, wiping the last of the cum from between his thighs, because of course he would notice Marcurio’s scrutiny. Marcurio sighed, “I was only checking,” and Valdimar laughed his light-hearted laugh and pulled Marcurio into another kiss.

“Will you share a bed with me tonight?” Valdimar asked, softly, releasing him and looking at Marcurio with a shyness that was entirely unexpected. Marcurio blinked, confused for a moment, and then bobbed his head until he could get his voice working to say, “Of course,” because _of course he would_. Valdimar gave him a small smile that nearly melted important parts of his insides. They slept then, curled together on the master bed, Valdimar only mildly surprised to discover how serious of a cuddler Marcurio could be.

 

One side-effect of Marcurio’s life as a mercenary was his ingrained habit of quizzing his waking consciousness on three questions: What day is it? What time is it? Is anyone trying to kill me? As he answered those questions, Marcurio also instinctively remained still until he’d inventoried his immediate situation—a little tender, but warm, snug, and undeniably comfy. Not a bad way to wake up, he decided.

He felt movement and the touch of cool air against his warmed skin and he hurriedly fumbled out from under the covers. He muttered a light spell on reflex and then winced at the too-sudden brightness of it.

“I did not mean to disturb you,” a hushed voice rumbled at him. Marcurio felt his pulse throb at the gentle, sleep-soft sound. Valdimar really did have a gorgeous voice.

“’s okay,” Marcurio rasped. “Light sleeper.” He batted his light further away and squinted in the direction of Valdimar’s voice. He tried to smile, though he was sure it looked skewed. He also absolutely refused to think what his hair must look like because he felt it curling around his neck and face and there was a reason he usually kept it pulled back. It helped that he was staring at a naked Valdimar. The faint glow of the magicked light was more than enough for him to fill in the details blurred by shadows.

“Rest,” Valdimar said, “I have some morning chores.” He laughed softly at Marcurio’s instant, disapproving frown. “I will wake you for breakfast, if you wish.”

“But you’re off duty!” Marcurio didn’t exactly whine. “Even housecarls must get a holiday!”

“I need to do a short check of the grounds. It won’t take long and it will make me feel better.”

“Fine,” Marcurio grumbled.

His eyes had adjusted enough to the murky light that he could see Valdimar’s bemused smile; he was still too groggy to pinpoint exactly why that smile made him tingle inside. So, instead, he scooted closer to the bedside and Valdimar obligingly moved within reach, allowing Marcurio to wrap an arm around his waist and promptly press his face against his thigh. He breathed in the scent of Valdimar’s skin, subtly tilting his nose to better catch the scent of his musk. Valdimar carded fingers through his hair, gently, unhurried, and Marcurio sighed at the simple pleasure of it.

He wasn’t sure what he wanted in that moment other than that he didn’t want it to end, not just yet. Leisurely mornings-after weren’t usually his thing—they risked too much of what he had little to offer. Except… this was nice. Good. Last evening’s conversation had been good. Being with Valdimar—that was very good. _So_ very good. And it felt good, he realized, knowing that he was here with the other man when he wasn’t on a job. That they could be just what they were: a guest and a host—two friends—or, now, Marcurio hoped, two lovers. Because there was little question in his mind that he was smitten with Valdimar.

Marcurio sighed again and after another stroke, finally mumbled, “I can get the hearth going if that’ll help.” He lifted his head from Valdimar’s thigh. “Unless that means chopping firewood, in which case I can supervise until the fire-starting part happens.” He made a serious face. “Trust me when I say that is the safest course of action.”

Valdimar chuckled and brushed a strand of hair out of Marcurio’s eyes. “Aye, there should be plenty of wood in the rack.”

Marcurio’s eyes flicked to Valdimar’s sex of their own accord. “Mm. I see.”

Either Valdimar missed the innuendo or, more likely, chose to ignore it, though he did pause and give Marcurio a thoughtful look. “How long do you have that you may stay?”

“Oh, whenever. I’m not on a schedule,” Marcurio said, just narrowly avoiding the slightly less suave, _Until you kick me out_.

Valdimar smiled then and Marcurio felt a flutter of hope that maybe Valdimar was just a little smitten with him, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I admit that I'm biased towards the Morrowind/Oblivion interpretation of the Sorcerer class, which does not exactly sync up with the Skyrim iteration. Given this, if they're going to call Valdimar a Sorcerer and not skill him in Conjuration, I get to fix their mistake.


End file.
